A blog where those who are lost come to be found, not necessarily found out. A blog where you can be silly, and expect the same in return. An occasionally serious place, a constantly changing place. It's your Happy Place, and mine. So, let's put on our aprons and let's get busy.

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Friday, November 6, 2009

Starfuxme

I get indignant a lot.

Noticed that about me?

I don't like indignation, and I regret that it's a component of who I am, but at least I'm able to recognize it.

I caught myself getting indignant at Starbucks this morning, and I said to myself, "Apron, (I used my real name, because I was talking to myself and nobody could hear it), you're a bad boy."

And, sometimes, I just am.

I got indignant at Starbucks this morning because the woman in front of me ordered two Venti Lattes, both with extra shots of syrup, and some other complicated things that I couldn't even decipher as I craned my neck to read the order read-out monitor. In any case, her total came to $9.68, so you know there was some heavy shit going on there. Needless to say, the completion of this suburban mom-in-white-striped-pants' order took an inordinately long time to fill.

And I got indignant about that.

As this is a Starbucks located inside a supermarket (yes, go ahead and snigger at me derisively because I live in the suburbs-- I don't mind) there was only one person behind the counter and she wasn't exactly the sprightliest character ever to wear a green apron-- so, maybe I should have been indignant at the Starbucks worker, but I don't think so. I don't think she was the main problem here. I don't even think Mrs. Stripey is the problem, though I was getting a serious hate-on for her in the heat of the moment. I think Starbucks itself, the purveyor of complicated pseudocoffeeconcoctions is the guilty party.

I just wanted a coffee. A simple, straight, boring cup of coffee. Because I am a depressed, sleep-deprived caffeine addict who requires a certain amount of caffeine and sugar to maintain homeostasis, or else I will be a complete failure at work and at life, alternately growling at people and falling asleep at varied intervals. How much time does it take even a lethargic Starbucks employee to grab a cup, pour coffee into it and hand it over? 20 seconds? Sixteen? Eight?

Just give me my motherfuck joe, honey, and we can all walk away unharmed.

I think it should be a federal law that all Starbucks ought to be manned by two employees at minimum. One line should be for straight up coffee-drinkers. Nobody else. The second line can be for, you know, people who like lattes and shots and foam and whip and tiny umbrellas in their coffee or whatever. Let them all sweat it together. It's rather like the Express Lane at the supermarket. We've got a job to do, and we're going to do it quicker than you, so let us do that and leave us alone.

Also, at highway rest-stop Starbucks: no silly drinks allowed. Period. People traveling in the pouring rain on I-95 at 10:00 at night should not have to stand in a line for 20 minutes because people want gay, cute little drinks that take 4 minutes per customer to prepare. Want coffee? Here. Take it and get the fuck out of here.